1 May 2015

New work at Very Small Kitchen





4 comments:

  1. I worked my way through this text. I found it hermetic. It seemed to be a hydraulics of affect, the plumbing of these feelings to these words, to move the words, to move the feelings.

    I had the feeling that it was not for me to read and yet I read it. In reading it, certain involuntary thoughts occurred to me which I would not have thought if I had not read it, I don't know if you will find these interesting or relevant:

    The (yellow) lines reminded me of some innate capacity to recognise and repeat architectural lines as in a 'cursus': http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thornborough_Henges#Cursus and http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thornborough_Henges#Cursus which then reminded me of a text I have put on the Horns blog called 'by association'
    The yellow (lines) reminded me of William Burroughs game 'walk on colour' (specifically, 'walk on yellow')
    When I moved with my family into a dreary place, we painted the walls yellow to compensate. I then found out that mad people paint the walls of their dreary places yellow to compensate. I drew the necessary conclusion.

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  2. Hi editor, thank you for your comments and for your perseverance w my hermeticism :) I like the idea of hydraulics of affect. It felt like plumbing to write it. Or digging, but out not down.

    I hadn't even heard the word cursus before, thanks. The idea of ritual landscapes is a fascinating one. I was interested in accidental repetition or regurgitation of concepts, even if they appeared in different forms.

    Can you send a link to 'by association' - I can't immediately find it.

    I didn't know about Burroughs' colour walks. I just read a little now. Funnily, I play that game often with myself. Is there a book or text of his which collects these? I love the one you quote.

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  3. Hi Her mouth
    I can't remember where the colour walks idea comes from (I guess from some psychic tv/apostles type fanzine).

    I have a horror of Burroughs now but he was an essential component of autodidact existentialism way back when. Sometimes a writer is buried so deep inside what we become that we can no longer read them.

    This is the link to the by association piece: http://editor-horns.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/by-association.html

    Yes, I had not heard of the cursus either until recently but these long ditches and causeways are more interesting I think than the points of destination to which they lead (e.g. standing stone circles).

    I hope I did not convey that I had to 'perservere' against my willin reading your piece, only that I read it as if the content moved as if behind a rice paper screen.

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  4. The word 'persevere' for a long time for me has happy links with the I Ching - its advice is so often to 'persevere' across the great river/mountain/through difficult conditions either actively or patiently - so I take no offence to it at all and rather like the idea of making a reader struggle to decipher (sometimes), not out of sadism but maybe because it brings them closer to my experience of writing which makes reading and writing feel like more similar activities that we are engaged in not only alone; and makes meaning happen in a different way - a build up of sounds rhythms words generating a feeling, a thought, or a pattern of feeling or thought that only through its layering makes something happen. (Equally though sometimes I hate this and want to be spoken directly easily and not in code.)

    Still, makes me think of your By Association piece, which I just read and really liked: 'We see that differential patterns of significant points appear in a discursive field wherever meaning has been abstracted.'

    I was thinking of something like this: 'The compulsive pattern is interpreted by psychologists as being the result of compulsive repetition, of semantic saturation, but really it is the opposite of this, it is constitutive of meaningfulness' in relation to some (my art history is not so good) renaissance paintings of natural scenes where the naturalness (say of some grass, a meadow with flowers) is made to to look natural (and therefore real) only through an 'unnatural' painterly process of mad seeming repetition.

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